Nov. 4th, 2004

ellyssian: (Default)
For many, many centuries, my wife has been attempting to get me to bring my lunch to work, instead of dining at such favored and expensive establishments as I am known to frequent.

Despite all efforts to encourage her to make said lunch, which I would then carry and, ultimately, consume, she replied to the aeffect of: make your own damn lunch; except with far more profanity.

Having lost the battle to have lunch made for me, and having perpetually found myself at a loss for ingredients (something about me being overly selective), I finally made up a list of foods that, if procured, would allow me to construct a satisfying meal.

Lo and behold, the ingredients were purchased, despite much brouhaha regarding the fact that the quality and quantity of ingredients now outweighed the cost of an out-of-office dining experience.

Last night, in accordance with my master plan (entitled: "Make something that tastes Good"), I prepared the pocketless pita; the bag of chopped onions, sliced tomatoes, and black olives; the bag of honey ham, capicola, and muenster; the bag of pre-seasoned chopped lettuce; and some additional dressing on the side. Today, at lunch, I prepared the pita, added the dressing, then the lower-level veggies, followed by the deli department - alas, no toaster oven! but, nonetheless, a suitable warming/melted cheese aeffect was supplied by the microwave. After topping with the lettuce, I instantly became the envy of the one co-worker who happened to walk by and eye the creation.

A delicious sandwich, far superior to anything offered at the Subway across the street and, at the least, more filling than a Quiznos flatbread sandwich, if not competitive taste-wise.

Ah, I am quite satisfied now! =)
ellyssian: (Default)
It's about death, but it seems to fit as - at least some of my reactions to - the aftermath of the election...

From Part II (The question) of "Is this it?", by Karmakanic:

I'm so sorry if I disappoint you but I'm really not ready to check out quite yet
So would you please forgive me if I do not fit in to your perfect set and your
Calculations and registrations and all other forms of your pathetic creations
What is it with you people? Is anybody listening?
Greetings dear citizens see what you have become
You are slaves under the influence, controlled by the very same thumb
So when the bubble finally bursts what will you do?
When you are standing face to face with the naked truth and realize that the answer is you.
It's all the same but the names may change
Don't be ashamed just sign your names
So when you are old and when you are Grey, and labelled as done
Someone else will be on top of it all totally numb
Is this it?

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Mina Ellyse

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